Blood of the Wolf

146 Pages·2016·10.69 MB·English

by  Werewolf the Forsaken

“Within all of us is the spirit, true.
But it lies within the meat. It pulses in the blood.
It caresses the bone and coils around the heart.
They tell you the spirit is what we were,
that it defines what we can be.
But listen to your own breath and your own heartbeat,
feel the heat that rises in you
and you know that everything you are now
is the flesh and the blood.
You are a beast of mortal flesh and natural hunger. Live.”
—Mgelika Tusiev, Hunter in Darkness
This book includes:
• A look into the physiology
of werewolves, from
the ramifications of their
regenerative powers and
shapeshifting to explorations
of health, mating and old age
• An extensive look at how
werewolves survive in the
world around them, from
the urban jungles of human
civilization to the far reaches
of the wilderness
• An in-depth treatment of
wolf-blooded humans, both as
supporting cast and as
playable characters
PRINTED IN CANADA www.worldofdarkness.com WW30301
1-58846-329-X WW30301 $26.99 US
Blood of the Wolf
“Within all of us is the spirit, true.
But it lies within the meat. It pulses in the blood.
It caresses the bone and coils around the heart.
They tell you the spirit is what we were,
that it defines what we can be.
But listen to your own breath and your own heartbeat,
feel the heat that rises in you
and you know that everything you are now
is the flesh and the blood.
You are a beast of mortal flesh and natural hunger. Live.”
—Mgelika Tusiev, Hunter in Darkness
This book includes:
• A look into the physiology
of werewolves, from
the ramifications of their
regenerative powers and
shapeshifting to explorations
of health, mating and old age
• An extensive look at how
werewolves survive in the
world around them, from
the urban jungles of human
civilization to the far reaches
of the wilderness
• An in-depth treatment of
wolf-blooded humans, both as
supporting cast and as
playable characters
PRINTED IN CANADA www.worldofdarkness.com WW30301
1-58846-329-X WW30301 $26.99 US
Blood of the Wolf
1
By Matthew McFarland, Wayne Peacock and Peter Schaefer
•
World of Darkness created by Mark Rein Hagen
Chapter Number: Chapter Title
Like God
The diner wasn’t a place that you’d stop into randomly, enter it. They snuck up on it, as though they were afraid it
just passing by and feeling peckish. It wasn’t the sort of place would bite like a rabid dog if it saw them before they got in
you’d pick out of a phone book, either. If the diner had ever the door. They sat and ordered their food, ate, grimaced at
had a real name, that name had been buried under cigarette the dirty grease covering everything, paid (sometimes) and
ash, tied up in varicose veins and erased along with Tuesday’s left. Anyone who ate there more than once was a regular, but,
lunch specials. It was just “the diner.” It didn’t warrant capi- even by that generous standard, there weren’t many.
talization. It didn’t attract business so much as accept it, the • • •
way a drain accepts garbage and dirty water. Joel was standing in the dry stockroom trying to reach
The diner squatted between a porno theater and a the last roll of paper towels for the bathroom. He was looking
burned-out tenement like a bum taking a shit in an alley. The at the spot where Naomi had been standing while she stroked
employees, those who drove to work, parked their cars in the him, her face twisted into a look halfway between lust and
theater’s lot. Arliss, the theater manager, took his payment bitterness. Joel wondered if it had really happened or if he
for this privilege in free coffee and sandwiches, stumbling had thought it up. It didn’t seem like his kind of fantasy. He
into the diner late at night reeking of mildew and beer. didn’t really like white girls.
Joel bussed tables at the diner. He was just out of col- The diner was busy, but, of course, that was relative.
lege, but he had pulled out too soon. He was barely 19 and Four customers had slunk into the diner within a few minutes
had received enough schooling to know how to write an essay of each other. Naomi had actually come out from behind the
but not enough to know why he should. He worked at the diner counter to wait on them, popping her gum and glancing back
because, on night shifts, the owner paid the staff minimum at the cash register every few seconds. Once she had taken
wage instead of making them work for tips. the orders, though, she planted herself behind the counter
The day crew wasn’t extensive, but the night crew was and half-heartedly began to clean. That left Joel to bring the
truly skeletal. Joel — tall, thin and sallow, his hair tied into customers’ food out.
cornrows that were now growing wild — bussed the tables and The first order to come up belonged to a heavyset man in
washed the dishes. Naomi worked the counter — she was a torn blue jeans and a greasy white shirt. He ordered a ham-
“waitress,” but she rarely went over to people’s tables. She’d burger and when Joel brought it to him, he picked it up and
call to them across the diner, and make Joel bring people’s ate it so languidly that bits of the bread stuck to his lips like
food out to them. Naomi was nearly 10 years older than Joel soft white blisters. Joel didn’t go back to the man’s booth to
and might at one time have been pretty. The first night Joel ask if everything was OK. He didn’t want to watch that man.
worked with her, she jerked him off in the dry stockroom Two of the other patrons were sitting together, talk-
and then, wiping her hands on her apron, glared at him and ing. Two women, one perhaps eight or 10 years older than
informed him that “this never happened.” Joel hadn’t had any the other. Joel walked by their table on his way back to the
idea why it had happened in the first place, so the notion that kitchen and heard the older one saying, “God doesn’t want us
it never had was easy enough to accept. to be like ourselves. He wants us to be like Him. That’s what
Milo worked the kitchen, the arthritis in his hands never being made in His image means.”
getting quite bad enough to stop him from flipping burgers Joel thought about that as he nudged the swinging door
and chopping tomatoes. He was on probation or parole, or he to the kitchen open. He didn’t go to church anymore. He felt
was wanted by the police or something. Naomi had a different it was for kids and old people. He picked up the women’s food
story every few weeks, and she always told Joel in a hushed, — a soggy grilled cheese sandwich and an omelet with tomato
harsh voice while Milo was making the coffee or frying an — and walked back toward the table.
egg. She denied ever changing the story, and Joel didn’t make
The fourth customer was sitting near the two women. He
an issue of it. Milo never said much, anyway. The one and only
had actually arrived first, but had ordered a steak and so was
time he had initiated conversation with Joel outside of “Order
up!” was when he’d clapped Joel on the back and said, “Today, still waiting for his food when Joel brought the church-women
I’m sixty-six years old.” Joel had just smiled, and Milo walked theirs. The man was white, maybe light-skinned Mexican, Joel
away nodding, as if he’d outsmarted someone. thought. Homeless or crazy, maybe both. The guy didn’t smell
If the staff was skeletal, the customers were zombies homeless, though. Most bums smelled like piss and garbage,
— a little more meat and a little hungrier, but still not but this guy didn’t have that reek. He definitely had an odor
living people. The customers didn’t walk up to the diner and
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3
— and Joel didn’t find it pleasing — but it didn’t make him “What you said before about how God wants us to be like
want to retch like the smell of most bums. Him, not like us. Guess that guy’s still like himself, not God.”
Milo smirked. “‘Leastways, I hope so.”
Joel realized he was staring at the guy and looked away.
He set the church-women’s food down and asked if they Naomi rolled her eyes. She didn’t believe in God. “I’m
needed anything else. The older one looked up at him and gonna go get those ladies their check.”
asked him if he was saved. Joel cocked his head at her. She Joel leaned on the wall. “God’s image,” he muttered.
had stains on her teeth, and her breath smelled like old food “What the hell does that mean?”
and coffee. The other woman with her looked politely bored. Milo shrugged. “I ain’t a preacher.”
Joel wanted to ask them why they were in a diner at 3 A.M. if
“My mama used to tell me that God couldn’t be seen or
God loved them so much, but couldn’t think how to phrase the
felt, just loved and worshipped. If He can’t be seen, how are
question.
we made in his image?” Milo probably wouldn’t have answered
He didn’t get a chance to answer. The homeless man anyway, but a gasp from the diner caught their attention.
reached over and tugged on Joel’s apron. “Where’s my steak,
Joel rushed out and found Naomi holding the steak knife
huh?”
that she had placed on the man’s plate. The knife’s blade was
“Comin’ up, sir.” Joel backed away from the table and covered in blood. The man was gone, but a $20 bill lay in a
walked back to the kitchen. Naomi followed him. puddle of steak juice. The two church-women were staring at
“What was that about?” the door, shocked. Joel saw the man walking away from the
Joel shrugged. “Got some strange folk in here tonight. diner toward the porno theater.
Them two women was talking about God wanting us to be like Joel pointed at the blood. “What the hell is that?”
Him, not theyselves.” The older of the church women spoke up. “He finished
The stove sizzled as Milo flipped the man’s steak. “Us?” eating… and then starting cleaning under his fingernails with
Joel turned to him. “You know. Everybody. And then they the knife. I thought that was strange, but then I saw blood on
asked me if I was saved, and that guy asked where his steak his fingers.”
was at.” The younger one nodded. “He was cutting himself,
Milo flipped it onto a plate. “Right here. Rare, right?” smearing it over the knife blade, but he wasn’t hurt. He just
looked…”
Naomi nodded. “That’s what the man said.” She put a
steak knife on the plate and handed it to Joel. “Like he was about to light a cigarette, if you know what
I mean,” the older one finished. Naomi nodded. It took Joel a
Joel took the plate out to the homeless man. The man
second to figure out what she meant. Joel didn’t smoke.
picked up the steak knife and stared at it as though looking
for dirt, then set it down next to the plate. He picked up the • • •
table knife instead and jammed his fork into the meat, sawing Joel got halfway home that morning before he re-
off large hunks and stuffing them into his mouth. membered he’d left his house keys in his apron. Cursing to
“Umm, anything else?” Joel asked. He was feeling himself, he got off the bus and started walking back. He
queasy. The man grunted and waved Joel away. Joel backed off didn’t have enough change to take the bus back to work and
and glanced over at the two women, who were staring at the then home.
man with utter revulsion. “Y’all finished?” he asked. It was still dark when he passed in the front of the porno
“I am now,” said the younger one. She pushed her plate, theater. The door opened and Arliss walked out, glanced at
which still contained most of her sandwich, toward Joel. The him and muttered a greeting. Joel could hear moans coming
older woman said nothing, but nodded at what remained of her from inside the building. As he did every time he passed by
omelet. the place, he thought about going in and watching the show.
He never did. It was probably too expensive.
Joel took the plates back toward the kitchen. The fat man
had finished his hamburger and was counting crumpled dollar He walked just behind Arliss as they approached the
bills onto the table. He stood up and nodded at Joel. “I’ll just diner. Arliss was short enough that Joel could just about see
leave money here, OK?” Joel nodded back at him and backed over the top of the man’s head. Arliss’ thinning hair stuck
into the kitchen. up a bit around the edges, and to Joel it looked like weeds.
“Time for your coffee, Arliss?” Joel asked.
“Damn, you should see that fucker eat.” Joel scraped the
food in the garbage and set the plates in the wash basin. Arliss looked back at him. “Yeah,” he chuckled. “Thought
about getting an omelet, too. Milo gone home already?”
Milo didn’t move, but Naomi leaned out the door and
snuck a glance. “Yuck. He’s got almost that whole steak on “Yeah, man. Milo’s off same time’s me.”
the fork.” “Shit, that’s too bad. Man makes good omelets.” They
“God’s image.” paused. Joel wasn’t used to talking with people, and Arliss
always seemed nervous. “So, where is everyone?”
“Huh?” Joel turned to Milo, who was scraping the steak
juices off the stove. “Huh?”
Chapter Number: Chapter Title
“Well, I saw Naomi leave. You said Milo’s off, but I ain’t seen the day people come in
yet. Doesn’t that one fat girl always park in my lot?”
Joel nodded. He could never remember that girl’s name, either. “I don’t know. They
should be here.”
Arliss pointed to the diner’s windows. “Lights are out. Somebody’s in the back,
though, it looks like.” Joel squinted. Arliss was right. All of the lights in the diner were
out, which was strange, because it was supposed to be open 24 hours. But Joel could
see someone inside, not in the kitchen, but rummaging around in the restaurant. As the
two men got closer, Joel recognized the man.
“Motherfucker,” he whispered.
“What?”
“That guy was in here earlier this evening, man. Crazy fucker ordered a raw
steak and then cut on his own fingers with the knife.” They crept up and stared in
the window. It was the homeless guy, no doubt about it. He was pawing through
the cash register. “Fucker’s robbing us.”
Arliss pulled a small black revolver from his jacket. “So let’s get him.
There’s two of us. We’ll tie him up or something and call the cops.”
Joel turned to stare first at the gun, then at Arliss. He couldn’t believe
Arliss had the balls to pack a piece. “What the fuck do I care?”
“I care,” said Arliss. “What if he robs me next week? Anyway, it’s the right
thing to do. ‘Thou shalt not steal,’ right?”
“God’s own image,” muttered Joel. “All right.”
They snuck around to the back door and found it had been forced.
The lock on the door was rusty and old. It wouldn’t have taken much.
Joel slipped in first, crossed the kitchen and listened. He
heard the man tearing the money from the register, and waved
Arliss in. Arliss moved slowly, trying to open the door just
enough to get in without making noise. Joel was listening to
the crazy man. He was muttering under his breath. “Arliss,”
hissed Joel.
Arliss cocked his head and mouthed, “What?”
“What the hell language is that?”
They both listened. The man was talking at full speaking
volume now, but neither one of them understood a word. “Ger-
man?” whispered Arliss.
“Maybe French?” Joel was squatting on the balls of
his feet and overbalanced. His right hand shot out to steady
himself, and a pan fall to the floor.
Joel would have expected the man to curse or yelp
in surprise. Instead, everything grew very quiet for a few
seconds. Arliss cocked his pistol and backed away from the
kitchen door. Maybe, thought Joel, he just thinks something fell by its—
The kitchen door swung inward, and the man leapt into the room. He glanced
down at Joel and kicked at his chest. The blow knocked Joel against the shelves of
pans and steel containers. He tried to stand, but when he leaned on his arm he felt
pain shoot through his upper body and tears well up in his eyes. Fucker broke my
ºcollarbone, he thought.
Arliss fired the pistol, and the man’s shoulder pulled back. Joel, still trying to
stand, noticed that the man seemed bigger now, his hair longer and darker. A long strand
of drool leaked from the man’s mouth, and he hunched over like an excited dog about to
pounce at a visitor.
Arliss fired again. The bullet struck the man in the stomach, and he slipped to one knee. Joel saw blood drip-
ping from the wound. The man turned his head and glared at Joel. Joel heard cracking noises from his shoulder
and realized he was crab-walking away from the man. Joel’s shoulder screamed in pain, but somehow it didn’t
4
5
feel as significant. He had finally recognized that stench on When the police arrived, Joel was
the man. still staring at his hand. They held
It wasn’t garbage or rot or even just filth. It was blood up a bl oody steak knife and asked if
and meat, the stink from a feral dog’s mouth or the dumpster that ’s what had cut off his finger. Joel
behind a butcher shop. The man’s eyes followed Joel, not even nodd ed. He distinctly remembered
acknowledging the man who had just shot him twice, and Joel som eone saying that this had never
found himself thinking God’s image God’s image God’s image hap pened. He wasn’t sure what “this”
as the man’s rabid gaze drove him into the corner. meant , though.
Arliss stepped forward. Weakly, Joel tried to say some- The police asked about the
thing, but the man was already moving. He sprang upwards and man t hey had seen running away,
knocked Arliss against the wall, pinning the gun against his whet her Joel knew who he was or
hip. The man bit into Arliss’ face and pulled up, tearing away why h e had done this. They asked
his lower lip. if h e had killed Arliss because
he r an the porno shop. They
Joel tried to scream, but choked trying to draw breath.
ask ed where the day employees
Arliss screamed and the man winced, then drew back his hand
wer e. They asked why Joel was
and forced it into Arliss’ mouth. He slammed Arliss’ head into
still at the diner.
the wall, again and again, until Arliss finally fell over.
Joel didn’t have much to
Joel watched as the man crouched on the floor next to
tell t hem, even after they
Arliss’ body. The man picked up the gun and sniffed it. He
let hi m out of the hospital.
didn’t hold it like a gun, didn’t seem concerned that it might
The p olice blamed the
go off or realize that he could use it on Joel. He just sniffed
pain killers and the shock,
it, then licked the handgrip and finally put it down.
and al though Joel told
God’s image, thought Joel. God doesn’t want us to be like
them s omething very
ourselves.
imp ortant about the man,
The man leaned over and walked on his palms and the
the y didn’t even write it
balls of his feet to Joel. He grabbed Joel’s hand and sniffed
dow n.
it, and then turned those rabid eyes on Joel again. “You?” he
“He’s not himself,”
asked.
Joel said. “God
“What?” Joel felt cold. His pants were soaked with
doe sn’t want us to be
sweat. Sweat? No, probably not, he realized.
like o urselves. He
“You?” The question was a demand. It was a snarl. It was
want s us to be like
the bark before the savage bite.
Him. But I don’t
“What? Me what?” Joel’s hands were shaking.
think t hat guy was
“Is. It. You?” With each word the man’s mouth drew ever like himself.”
closer to Joel’s face. Joel could see the blood on the man’s
What’s that
lips, the flesh between his teeth. Joel tried to answer, but he
mak e God, then,
couldn’t catch his breath.
som e part of
The man let out a long, liquid snarl and forced Joel’s Joel wanted to
hand open. He sniffed at the hand again, and then bit down on kno w?
Joel’s little finger. Finally finding the voice to scream, Joel Hungry,
felt the teeth slash through his skin, grate against the bone Joel thought.
and finally meet. Joel jerked his hand away and stared at it,
trying to move his missing finger, unable to figure out where
it was.
The man stood up and spat Joel’s finger into his hand,
then stuffed it into his pocket. “It better be you,” the man
said. He started toward the back door, and then glanced at the
silverware bin. He looked down at his hand, covered in blood
and grime, and made a face. He pulled a steak knife from the
bin, and began to dig under his fingernails. His hands were
dripping blood as he shouldered his way through the door.
• • •
Introduction
CREDIT S AUTHOR’S THANKS
Written by: Matthew McFarland, Wayne Peacock and
To Michael Herman, for sharing his understand-
Peter Schaefer
ing of animals.
World of Darkness created by Mark Rein•Hagen
Developer: Ethan Skemp
Editor: Scribendi Editorial Services
Art Director: Aileen E. Miles
Interior Art: Abrar Ajmal, Samuel Araya, John Bridges,
Matt Dixon, Brian LeBlanc, Jamie Tolagson
Front Cover Art: Dan Brereton
Book Design: Aileen E. Miles
© 2005 White Wolf Publishing, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this publica-
tion may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form
or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise
without the prior written permission of White Wolf Publishing, Inc. Reproduction
prohibitions do not apply to the character sheets contained in this book when
reproduced for personal use. White Wolf, Vampire and World of Darkness are
registered trademarks of White Wolf Publishing, Inc. All rights reserved. Vampire
the Requiem, Werewolf the Forsaken, Mage the Awakening, Blood of the Wolf,
World of Darkness Chicago, Storytelling System and World of Darkness Antagonists are trademarks of White
Wolf Publishing, Inc. All rights reserved. All characters, names, places and text herein are copyrighted by White
Wolf Publishing, Inc.
The mention of or reference to any company or product in these pages is not a challenge to the trademark or
copyright concerned.
This book uses the supernatural for settings, characters and themes. All mystical and supernatural elements
are fiction and intended for entertainment purposes only. Reader discretion is advised.
Check out White Wolf online at
http://www.white-wolf.com
PRINTED IN CANADA.
6
7
BLOOD
O F T H E
™
WOLF
TABLE OF CONT ENT S
PROLOGUE: LIKE GOD 2
INTRODUCT ION 8
CHAPTER ONE: FLESH AND BLOOD (PHYSIOLOGY) 12
CHAPTER TWO: SHEEP’S CLOTHING (URBAN LIFE) 40
CHAPTER THREE: THE WILD HUNT (WILDERNESS SURVIVAL) 76
CHAPTER FOUR: THE WOLF-BLOODED 100
Contents
Introduction
INTRODUCTION
“IN THE MIDDLE AGES IT WAS OFTEN BELIEVED THAT IF ANY
PERSON HAD BEEN DENOUNCED FROM THE ALTAR AND REMAINED
IMPENITENT, REFUSING TO MAKE RESTITUTION AND CONFESS, THE
CURSE OF THE WEREWOLF FELL UPON HIM.”
—MONTAGUE SUMMERS, THE WEREWOLF IN LORE AND LEGEND
For a while, forget the word “Uratha.” Let’s talk conditions, while others can normally change shape
instead about werewolves. as they please but are forced to do so in a given situa-
The characters you portray in Werewolf: The tion. Some werewolves must don a wolf-skin cloak or
Forsaken are both, of course. A werewolf, in the belt in order to induce the change (commonly those
most basic use of the term, is a person who turns who sell their souls or otherwise make demonic pacts
into a wolf. Leaving aside any notions of bargains for the power).
with the Devil, Gypsy curses, inherited madness or Second, werewolves are commonly portrayed as
unfortunate encounters with infectious lycanthropes, cursed beings. Whether the “ability” to change shape
a werewolf is a human being who becomes a canine comes from an actual curse from an angered party or
predator. an unfortunate happenstance such as being bitten by
An Uratha, of course, is another term entirely. another werewolf, being a lycanthrope is not consid-
Our word for “werewolf” carries with it notions of ered a fortunate turn of events (why this is the case
tribal culture, religion, ethics and morals and spiri- is discussed presently). Even werewolves who choose
tuality. The culture for Uratha that exists within the their lot or come by their condition honestly through
game is rich, immersive and entirely fabricated for heredity (again, like the Uratha) don’t have an easy
purposes of the game. time of it. In short, the transition from human to
This is not a bad thing, of course. Werewolves werewolf isn’t a comic-book origin wherein the pro-
in most legends control their actions by a very slim tagonist discovers his super-powers. It’s a nightmare.
margin, if at all. Roleplaying a mindless beast gets old The curse of lycanthropy normally hinges on the
very quickly, and so some cultural framework is nec- werewolf eating the flesh of humans. In werewolf leg-
essary in order for werewolves to be playable charac- end, a man would become a werewolf and then hunt
ters. And yet, one of the complaints that occasionally down his neighbors for his gruesome feast. This isn’t
arises about the Uratha is that they don’t feel like the so surprising; the wolf was believed to attack humans
werewolves in literature and movies. and finds association with gluttony in literature and
Blood of the Wolf aims to prove otherwise. lore. The werewolf as a font of unquenchable rage
is probably a newer idea than the notion of raven-
DEFINING WEREWOLVES ous hunger, but these ideas both hinge on the same
Werewolf: The Forsaken discusses what it basic premise: when the man becomes the wolf, he
means to be Uratha and touches on some of the more is uncontrollable. Viewed in this way, the “curse”
common myths about werewolves and how the myths inherent to the lycanthropic condition is easy enough
relate to the game. Let’s consider some of the defining to understand. It robs the victim of his free will and
points about being a werewolf, without the context makes him a monster.
that the game provides. And that, in fact, is another defining point about
First, as stated previously, werewolves are shape- werewolves: they are monsters. Only comparatively
shifters. Most commonly, they are humans who be- recently has any creature previously defined as a
come wolves, although once in a while in literature a monster taken the position of “sympathetic protago-
wolf becomes a human instead. A werewolf’s control nist,” much less “hero,” in literature, media or even
over his or her shapeshifting is usually a crucial part roleplaying. (As a side note, if vampires and were-
of a werewolf story. Some lycanthropes can change wolves are metaphorical representations of murder
at will, like the Uratha of Werewolf: The Forsaken. and brutality, is it a coincidence that modern film
Some werewolves change involuntarily under certain and literature portrays ordinary human brutes and
8